


Vulnerable

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: 31 Days of Ficmas 2020 [18]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alien Flora & Fauna, Dubious Ethics, F/M, Healers, Illnesses, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Paralysis, Sickfic, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28148331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: When the Master gets sick, the reader tries to take care of the stubborn bastard.
Relationships: The Master (Dhawan)/Reader
Series: 31 Days of Ficmas 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035468
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Vulnerable

“It’s bloody boiling in here. I should never have let you convince me to calibrate the TARDIS to Earth standard.”

“Take off your jacket if you’re hot,” you muttered, crashing down on one of the seats around the console. Reaching under the chair, you pulled out the book you were reading and swung your feet onto the central column. It was the perfect height, the spacey mechanics warmed your feet after trudging through the snowy mountain tops and it pissed The Master off which was always fun. Not necessarily wise, mind, but entertaining nonetheless.

That curbed his whinging for a while but less than ten minutes later The Master began to grumble under his breath once more. He circled the central column, flicking switches and making a right show of the fact that he was uncomfortable and putting up with the ‘god forsaken’ temperatures for you. Minus a few creative expletives, it would almost have been sweet.

As he circled around again, you finally looked up from your book and gasped. “Master -”

“That’s my name, love.”

That smug smirk which you loved so dearly, which consistently meant that you were in for a treat, was entirely absent. Instead, he stared at you (and your legs still on the console) with vague disinterest. If you didn’t know better, you’d think that someone had drained the fire from his belly, all the rage and anger and passion that made him burn so brilliantly, so bright and dangerously. But that wasn’t at all what bothered you the most.

You caught his wrist and shuddered at the cold, scratchy texture beneath your fingers. “Look at your arm!”

He snatched his arm back. “It’s nothing.”

“This isn’t nothing, Master!”

You jumped to your feet and followed him around the TARDIS like a shadow, one he was keen to ignore. The Time Lord strode purposefully but without direction and you continued to pursue him, slowly but surely herding him towards the medical bay. Only when the door clicked shut behind you (the ship on your side for once) did he realise where you had led him.

“Move.”

Testing The Master’s patience was fun. It was a thrill, a challenge. You loved to push him and he loved to put you back in your place (you thoroughly enjoyed that part too). However, outright disobedience was something else altogether. Flexible though they might sometimes seem, especially when The Master was in a teasing mood, the dynamics between you were so strict that they may as well have been set in stone. Simply: he was in charge and you were to always do what you were told.

As you shook your head, arms folded across your chest, you knew that this would go one of two ways. One: The Master would accept that something was indeed wrong with him, allow you to look after him and forgive you ignoring an outright order. Two: he would see you defiance as adequate reason to kill you. Perhaps killing you might be an over reaction – he would probably just strand you on a desert planet for a few nights – but in his current state you certainly couldn’t say either way.

“You are sick. You need to sit down.”

Still maintaining that he was perfectly well, you crossed the space and rolled a sleeve up to his elbow to reveal more scaly skin. The Master stared at the infected limb then shook his head, small beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks. “Stop your pathetic worrying. There is nothing wrong with me.”

Catching The Master off guard was a rare thing but when you shoved his chest he stumbled back, completely unprepared for the action. He glared at you, eyes wide but still lacking any real depth of emotion. You wasted no time and pushed him down onto an examination bed and slammed your hand down on the big blue button that began an assessment.

The Master fought the paralysis field which held him in place for the duration of the examination but even at full strength he would have failed to break free. You didn’t take your eyes off the Time Lord the entire time. Slowly, you shuffled away and grabbed the first pointy thing you could find – a small laser scalpel – so that at least when he leapt at you you would have some way of defending yourself.

However, when the time came, The Master swung his legs off the edge of the bed and sat blankly, dull eyes staring out into space, looking straight past you and out into the universe. You’d rather he tried to kill you. It would have been less frightening.

You crouched down in front of him and gently took his hand, deeply concerned by the progression of the infection. You willed the automatic diagnosis software to reach a conclusion faster. How long could it take to search through a database of a trillion trillion known diseases anyway?

“Will you get off of me!” The Master, suddenly aware of his surroundings again, whacked your hands away, punctuated each word with a carefully placed slap. “I am perfectly fine.”

How could he possibly say that when the evidence was explicit? The green scales had climbed a considerable distance up along his arm and they were growing at a concerning speed; he was sweating from the top of his skull so much that his dark, messy strands were practically dripping, and most desperately The Master could barely keep himself upright with falling the left every three seconds.

Thankfully, the computer soon provided you with a diagnosis. Elphonyc fungal flu. The name meant nothing to you but as you skimmed through the information provided you were glad to have realised so early what was wrong. According to the file, when untreated, the Elphonyc fungus would consume the host and scaly bat creatures would hatch from the rectum. Definitely not something you wanted to see.

“Woah, hey.” You jumped forward and caught The Master before he face planted into the ground and you laid him back on the bed. His eyes drifted shut and you watched in horror as the scales emerged from beneath his collar and started to climb up his neck. You couldn’t lose him. Not like this.

Heart racing, you frantically waded through the reams of information until you reached the part about cures. One word stuck out and you rifled through the cupboards until you found a shot of adrenaline. Apologising in advance, you slammed the obscenely large needle into his chest, realising a moment too late that you had no idea where Time Lords’ hearts were. You had always assumed they were in the same sort of place as humans but…

Thankfully, your guess proved sound. The Master’s eyes shot open and a pained grunt escaped his lips. His entire body trembled, his left leg especially violent in its shaking, but then he suddenly seemed to come back to himself. He turned that gorgeous, intimidating brown gaze on you and hissed, “What the hell did you do that for?”

You smiled shakily, stroking the damp hair from his face. The green scales on his neck were already retreating, shrivelling up and flaking away. The skin underneath looked red and uncomfortable and you resolved to find some kind of cream to help with any irritation or itchiness. The last thing you needed was an irritated Master on your hands.

“I saved your life. You’re welcome.”

He winced as the scales fell from his arm, disgusted by their presence. “Next time just let me die.”

“I could never do that.”

The Master held your gaze for a long moment then snatched the tablet with all of the information from your hands. He skimmed the entire file in a few seconds – his talent to speed read still something of an envy of yours – and groaned. “Elphonyc fungus. Nasty. You’re lucky it isn’t spread via touch or you’d be infected too.”

“Again, you’re welcome.”

“Oh, do shut up, dear.” A fondness flared in his words despite the mocking tone and you smiled at the ground. The Master tapped the screen a few times and sighed. No doubt he had seen the long list of recommended medicines to overcome the infection. To you, he said, “Make yourself useful and find these from the cupboards then leave me alone.”

“I don’t think so.”

“It wasn’t a request, love.”

You shook your head, stretching up to a high cabinet to retrieve a purple paste that would soothe the affected skin. “Don’t care. I want to look after you, Master.”

“I can manage a few pills and creams on my own. You’ll only get in the way. Go occupy yourself with some spoons or whatever it is you do when I’m not around.”

“I’m first aid qualified, you know.”

He scoffed, wheezing lightly as he pushed himself upright. “Just because you have a piece of paper that says you can fix broken humans does not mean you are in any way equipped to deal with a superior biology.”

“Will you just let me take care of you? Why do you have to be so stubborn? It is okay to let people see you’re vulnerable, you know.”

The Master rolled his eyes but gave in anyway. “Don’t expect me to do the same when you get sick.”

You perched on the edge of the mattress and slowly applied a thin layer of the purple paste to the back of his hand. He would have to remove his shirt for you to reach the rest of the dry, damaged skin but you just wanted to be sure that he was really okay with you touching him first.

“Is this okay?” you asked.

The Master simply nodded.

After all the time you’d spent together, you still weren’t at the place for casual touches. Oh, you fought and pushed and shoved each other about like there was no tomorrow. There was scratching and biting whenever you had sex but it was never gentle, never soft and intimate like this. It was new, different, a little unnerving if you were being honest.

Neither of you would ever, could ever, admit that this was how you wanted it to be between you. It was always there in the sideways glances, the stolen looks and teasing jokes, the whispered promises under the light of alien moons, but never acted upon. It was too dangerous to care like this, to be open and vulnerable, but it was nice to pretend, to savour it while you could.

And so what if you’d had to scrape a random sample of poisonous fungus into his tea and infect him with a potentially deadly disease to force the situation to arise (in your defence, you hadn’t know the symptoms would be so bad). He would have done the same for you and who knew… Maybe this would be the start of a new chapter in your relationship. Or maybe he would push you into a black hole when he learned the truth. Either way, new experiences were on the horizon for sure.


End file.
